Edward Cullen finally learns to bowl a maiden over
by afmtoo
Summary: Has Cocky Cullen, England cricket captain and man-about-town, finally met his match? AH, canon couples, rated M for language, lemons and Emmett


Edward Cullen Finally Bowls a Maiden Over - a Twilight Crick-Fic

a Fandom4Floods story by afmtoo

Chapter 1

It wasn't often that Edward Cullen returned to a hotel to find a woman laid out waiting for him. Emmett had been up to his tricks again, smuggling the pink, lumpy, giggling Christmas present into Edward's room when his back was turned.

The Blonde wriggled on the coverlet and her left boob sprang free from its tiny red triangular confine. Judging by the way it retained its beachball shape, it was seriously enhanced.

Edward sighed.

He had enough in the way of manners to do so quietly, but he was beginning to get sick of the plastic broads warming his sheets on this tour.

The steady stream of women coming (literally) in and out of his bed were starting to distract him from his game, although he'd not admit it to a soul.

His dick, on the other hand, was less picky and began to stir in his pants at the sight of one nipple and in anticipation of what else The Blonde might have to offer.

The Blonde's eyes drifted towards his crotch. "Merry Christmas, Skipper," she breathed. The beachball boob sat on her ribcage without any jiggling at all. Edward realised that he actually missed jiggling.

He shucked off his shoes and took the final swig from the stubby beer bottle he still held in his left hand. It was some piss-thin brew, not a patch on a pint of Dorothy Goodbody's Country Ale from the Barrels Pub back home.

The Blonde giggled. She had guppy lips, possibly containing more silicone than her tits. Edward closed his eyes so she couldn't see him rolling them, but the iron in his boxers continued unabated, lubricated by the booze and the visual stimulation in front of him.

"Yeah. Happy Christmas," he said in return as he pulled his shirt over his head and walked the final steps to the bed.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, at the airport, one hundred walking dead passengers were stumbling around baggage carousel waiting for their bags to catch up with them.<p>

Bella Swan was loitering in the shadows, as usual, standing beside a Malaysian couple who had joined their flight at Singapore. The two had spent the whole flight yelling at each other and eating some horrible-smelling fish snacks from a paper bag.

Bella had found herself wishing that they did noseplugs in the little airplane courtesy bag as she'd pulled out her iPod and selected a loud play list.

Slowly but surely, everyone grabbed their bags and moved away to the next stage of their journey. Bella's exhausted heart sank as she realised she was one of two people left and the single bag appearing out of the little door was definitely not hers.

She looked so crestfallen that the young blond man who hefted the last bag off the belt took immediate pity on her.

"You OK, honey?" Jasper Hale's accent was a peculiar mix of South African and Cockney. "Have you lost your luggage?"

Exhaustion from the twenty-nine hours so far spent in travel caught up with Bella in a rush and she began to feel tears well. She rubbed her eyes to try and force them to stay in, but it was a losing battle.

Jasper couldn't help himself. "Stay with me, darlin'. We'll find someone to help. I'm Jazz, by the way."

He ushered her towards the customs area, where their paths had to split. He kept an eye on her as her shoulders slumped while she spoke to a woman with a pixie hat and tinsel earrings, who ushered her off to a little booth in the corner.

Even when he was free of bureaucracy and in the arms of his wife once again, Jasper's generous spirit meant he wanted to keep waiting for the despondent brunette to appear. All it took was for him to mention to Alice that there may be shopping involved and she was on board too.

The couple waited patiently, arms around each others' waists, until the forlorn figure appeared through the doors into Arrivals, with only a carry on bag for company.

Jasper pulled Alice over with him. They watched in delight as Bella's face lightened a little after they offered her a lift and some emergency shopping support since all the clothes she had was what she was standing up in - clothes she had already been wearing for a day and a half.

Bella wanted little more than to get out of her rumpled jeans and winter-weight fleece. She wanted to strip down to the t-shirt she had underneath but was a little frightened that the resulting armpit stink would knock out any passing small children.

Jasper did the ushering thing again and before Bella could object, she found herself belted into the rear seat of a SUV, heading out of the airport car park and pulling in to a little strip of shops.

"Jazz can grab us a drink while we go and get you kitted out," Alice said as she turned off the ignition.

Christmas Eve wasn't the best day to be searching for essentials, but somehow Alice managed it. Twenty minutes later Bella was in a coffee shop inhaling a toasted tuna melt panini, washing it down with a grande gingerbread latte with added whipped cream and cinnamon sprinkles. Around her ankles were several bags of clothes and toiletries and two boxes containing pairs of sandals.

The three made conversation as they ate and Jasper and Bella stifled yawns. It was 4pm, too late to nap, too early to sleep.

It wasn't until a burly and sunburned man in a Barmy Army tee-shirt and union flag shorts shuffled over and asked for Jazz's autograph that Bella realised who he was; Jasper Hale, star England opener - called out of semi-retirement to bolster an ailing England cricket squad in the biannual slanging match known as the Ashes.

That made the girl she'd been introduced to as "Ali" none other than Mary Alice Brandon-Hale, Queen of the Wives and Girlfriends, commonly known in the red-tops as WAGs.

"You're on my list, Alice!" Bella exclaimed louder than she meant to, making Alice jump a little. "I don't know why I didn't realise it before... I am here to interview the WAGs for _Allure_ magazine... Oh God I can't believe I didn't know it was you..."

Alice shrugged. "I'm happy to meet you honey, but no 'shop talk' now. Come for lunch with us tomorrow - the Aussie team is laying on a barbie for us and I'm sure one more won't dent the food supply. The boys have to play first thing on the 26th, but we can let our hair down a little bit..."

Bella realised she was being railroaded, but all she had to entertain herself over the Christmas break was her iPod and a well-thumbed copy of Cosmo - her paperback supply was in her case - so she decided to throw caution to the wind.

"I'd be delighted," she replied.

Once the coffee was drained and Jasper had signed more autographs, they were in the car again and Alice asked Bella for directions to her hotel. The squeal when she realised they were staying at the same one could probably be heard by dogs three blocks away.

The trio made an arresting sight as they walked into the lobby of the Richardson Hotel, Alice dressed impeccably, Jasper effortlessly good-looking and Bella looking less frazzled in her light summer wardrobe, but weighed down with shopping bags instead of luggage.

The Hales waited for Bella to check in. She was given a double room on the second floor, much less grand, she guessed, than the suite Alice and Jasper shared.

They were standing together waiting for the clerk to finish his typing when loud noises floated across the lobby. A pissed-off woman shouting at the top of her lungs preceded a half-dressed blonde harpy making a grand entrance through the lobby from the lifts.

Hot on her heels was an equally irate Edward Cullen, dressed only in board shorts with his iron rusty red hair flopping over one eye, obviously steaming drunk.

The Blonde had a head start and she paused briefly in the middle of the lobby to call him a wanker and an arsehole before darting out of the doors into a conveniently-located taxi.

Edward stopped in his tracks as the taxi vanished. Jasper, ever the peacemaker, left Alice and Bella at the counter to give his wayward captain a hand to get away before someone saw him and tipped off the press, or worse, the selectors.

He wheeled his team-mate around, holding his breath to avoid the eye-watering smell of booze and cigarettes coming off him, and propelled him to the lifts. He pressed the 'up' button and prayed nobody else wanted to get in with them.

Alice waited with Bella, hoping that her new friend was too tired to take on board what had just happened. Alice had a soft spot for Edward, but knew he was on his last chance with the England team management.

Edward had rarely been out of the headlines since his debut - where he scored over 100 in both innings and caught three Aussies on the boundary. It was only his brute strength with a bat and his magic catching hands that stopped him from being sent home a dozen times every tour.

Bella had been too tied up with getting her room card to really pay attention to the shouting. She was so tired she felt like she was walking through a tunnel. As she turned towards Alice she groggily asked where Jasper had gone. Alice breathed a sigh of relief that the journalist had seen nothing untoward.

By the time Bella got to her room, all she wanted to do was wash up and go to sleep. Alice walked with her to her door, scribbled down her mobile and room numbers then more or less pushed her into the room. "Go, get clean, sleep. We'll meet up later," she promised.

It was bliss to finally get under the shower. Afterwards, Bella left a trail of wet footprints to the bed, where she fell asleep flat on her face, still in her hotel robe.

Hunger and her skewed body clock woke Bella at about 8pm, which she worked out was about lunch time home in England. She rummaged through the bags by her bed and unearthed some underwear, a tee-shirt, shorts and the less dressy sandals Alice had insisted would make her legs go on for ever.

It didn't take long for Bella to get dressed and make her way downstairs to the lobby, which was a totally different place in the dark, with a much more night-clubby feel, full of gorgeous people.

She turned away from the bright lights and walked out into the street. Having left London under a foot of snow and ice, it was a delight to walk in the warmth of the night air. She wandered along the busy pavement letting her feet decide where to go until she came across an American-style diner, all shiny chrome accents and red leather bar stools. Perfect.

She pushed the door open and headed to the counter. The chef/host/barman slung his tea towel over his shoulder and beamed at her. The booths were busy but the stools were sparsely populated.

She lifted herself up on to the red leather seat at the end of the counter and grabbed a menu. The barman raised an eyebrow as she asked for a Diet Coke while she decided what to eat.

She was so absorbed in reading the menu she didn't notice Edward Cullen lope into the diner and slip onto the stool next to her. Even if she had, she would have been hard pressed to recognise him.

He had woken up at about the same time as Bella with the worst of the booze burned off and a hole in his stomach only greasy food could fill. He only vaguely remembered his encounter with The Blonde. He had a fuzzy memory of Jazz taking his shoes off for him and telling him to calm the fuck down before he got his arse fired.

Even though it was warm enough to be out in shirtsleeves, Edward pulled on a black hoodie and his trusted beanie, to disguise his trademark hair. He wore some very dark tinted Oakley wraparound shades, which the last match sponsors had given him, partly to hide his identity but mainly to soften his hangover.

In a city full of English cricket fans he blended in seamlessly.

Bella may not have noticed him, but Edward definitely noticed her. Her relaxed clothing, natural boobs and un-teased hair was a novelty for him on this tour.

The barman moved over to him. He didn't recognise the cricket star - and if he had he wouldn't have cared; Aussie Rules soccer was his game. Edward had been a regular customer over the previous few days and they'd bonded over their love of cult movie quotes.

"What'll it be, sir?"

Edward grinned. "Gimme the Five Dollar Shake."

The barman grinned in return, recognising the _Pulp __Fiction_ lines and running with it. "How do you want that shake: Martin and Lewis or Amos and Andy?"

Edward grinned again. "Martin and Lewis."

The barman turned away. Bella couldn't help herself. She had no choice but to continue the quote.

"Did you just order a five dollar shake?" she said in her best Vincent Vega voice.

"Ummmhh," Edward answered.

"That's a shake... that's milk and ice cream."

"Last I heard."

"That's five dollars? You don't put bourbon in it or nothin?"

"No."

"Just checkin'."

Bella turned to look at her co-quoter and was pleased to see him laughing, although it was hard to tell too much through the black lenses of his sunglasses.

"It's always nice to meet a fan," she said and extended her hand. "Mrs. Mia Wallace."

Edward grinned, took her hand and ran with the theme. "Vincent Vega."

He picked her hand up and planted a theatrical kiss on it, watching from behind his glasses as she blushed cherry-red at the gesture.

The barman re-appeared with Edward's shake, then turned to Bella. "Have you chosen?"

Bella was tempted to launch into more _Pulp __Fiction_ lines, but she really wanted the ham and eggs, so she ordered without any further fanfare.

Edward sucked on his shake and decided that ham and eggs would be perfect, too, with a side order of fries. He was due at the nets the next morning and he could exercise it off before the team Christmas lunch.

Silence fell over the two, broken only by the slurping noise from Edward's shake and the spit and sizzle of the grill as their eggs fried.

Bella cracked first. "So..." She cleared her throat, not wanting it to sound like a pickup line. "Here for the cricket?"

Edward chuckled quietly. "Yeah, something like that. You?"

Bella smiled at him. "Sort of... I am going to the first day of the Test on Boxing Day for work, but I don't know the first thing about the game. My dad tried to explain it to me, but I zoned out. All I remember is something about a googly and a silly mid-off... I'm not really very sporting."

Edward bit back a sarcastic response once he realised she didn't know what she'd just said. Instead he took the moral high ground. He was fascinated by this cute and geeky little brown-haired Brit who knew her cult movies, but hadn't got a clue as to who he was.

He did something he hadn't expected to do. He took his glasses off. Bella was immediately drawn to his green hazel eyes and the depth of intelligence in them, despite the red blood vessels and swollen lids caused by his rapidly diminishing hangover.

"I know the rules, I can teach you if you like." Mentally Edward kicked himself, thinking he sounded like an idiot. But Bella didn't think that; she was touched that someone who she hardly knew would put themselves out for her like that.

They fell into easy conversation as their food arrived and the diner emptied as the patrons headed out to go home, to church or to nightclub their way into Christmas Day. Both skirted round their day jobs. Edward didn't want her to know he was famous; she didn't want him to think she was shallow for writing about celebs for a living.

Suddenly it was 11pm and they were the last two people in the shop, except for the barman.

They had discussed everything except religion and politics. He knew her guilty pleasure was eating pickles from the jar while she was watching Dirty Dancing. She winkled out of him that he owned the first Spice Girls CD, although he swore it was a gift.

The barman couldn't exactly shoo them out so he settled for cutting their coffee supply off and turning off the music.

Bella hopped off her stool first. She had truly enjoyed her evening far more than she'd expected she would. Wisely, she'd avoided booze, knowing she'd end up asleep on the bar, and it was great to be clear-headed.

Edward on the other hand was utterly confused. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to a girl for so long without laying a hand on her. He didn't even know her name; she was still Mia in his mind.

He had really enjoyed getting to know her, liked chatting about their favourite foods, movies and childhood memories.

It wasn't that his mind hadn't wandered to what kind of underwear she had on, what her breasts felt like or any of the other base thoughts that usually went through his head within seconds of meeting a girl. He was happy to sit, talk and - for the first time in his entire adult life - listen.

It was so against his nature that it left him in a complete spin. He wasted so much of his life hopping from bed to bed, and this girl had stopped him in his tracks.

His head was still spinning when they arrived at the Richardson.

"This is my stop," she said.

Edward was utterly out of his depth. Usually at this point of an evening he'd have had one hand under a bra, and the lucky girl would be up against a wall somewhere dark. Usually by this point of the evening he wouldn't know that the girl involved had broken her arm in two places on Bonfire Night when she was 11 and had a hamster called Bloggs who 'ran away' when she was at pre-school.

He felt thirsty - not only for her body but for her soul, her story, her whole self. He wanted her to see why he got up at 6am every day and practised in the nets for three hours before breakfast; why he was willing to spend half his life moving from hotel to hotel and playing the world's most complex game for five days on the trot in 40C heat.

He let his mouth run away with him before his brain could stop him. "I've had a lovely evening, Mia. I'd love to show you why cricket is so important to me. Come to the ground early on Boxing Day, I'll find you."

She looked at him, wide eyed. "But the place is huge - how will you find me?"

He fished around for his phone. "I'd better have your number..."

His face split into a grin as she rattled the number off to him. He dialed and her phone buzzed.

"Now you have mine, Mrs. Wallace," he teased.

Bella had spent much of the evening feeling dazzled by her companion and now she was beginning to worry he was slipping through her fingers. She was amazed he'd asked to meet up with her, but delighted she'd be able to spend longer with him, even if she was going to be sitting next by him in a baffled haze while he watched the match.

She knew she had to say goodnight, but her inner girlie really wanted to spin the evening out as long as she could. "Um... I know this is forward... but would you like a drink?" She nodded towards the hotel's bar as her stomach fluttered in anticipation of his answer.

He was within seconds of answering when he glimpsed an unpleasant sight across the lobby. Jasper was sitting on one of the expensive leather couches in the lobby looking very much awake and very much pissed off. Bella, facing into the street, couldn't see him, but Edward most certainly could.

His mood darkened as he realised that Jasper would have him down as returning to his whoring ways just hours after the last groupie left.

"Sorry, no drink tonight... Goodnight, Mia..."

He saw Jasper getting up and did what came naturally when faced with his best friend's wrath. He ran. He put his hands in his pockets and slouched off into the crowd, leaving Bella beyond baffled.

She was still standing there as Jasper appeared from the hotel and dashed after him, but neither of them spotted the other in their confusion. Still surprised, Bella made her way to her room, where she was soon out like a light.

Edward kept his cards close to his chest when Jasper did catch up with him. He refused to say where he'd been all evening. He was unwilling to let anyone into that bubble yet. Together they walked to the hotel, splitting on the third floor. Edward slept well and deep with dreams of brown eyes and silver sandals.

* * *

><p>Bella was not normally a breakfast person. She was usually happier grabbing some toast and Marmite at 11ish, after starting her day with a coffee or two.<p>

She hadn't bet on Alice texting her to ask - politely but firmly - if she fancied meeting up in the hotel cafe bar at 9am. Still lost in the fog of jetlag and with her mind spinning from her meeting with 'Vincent', Bella pulled on her second t-shirt and shorts ensemble.

At the last minute she grabbed her tiny tape recorder, a pad of hotel paper and a pen - hoping perhaps to begin her assignment early.

Alice was sitting alone in the cafe, with both eyes fixed on the door, waiting for Bella to appear. Once they were seated and had been served coffee, she handed over a small gift and a card.

"Happy Christmas, Bella!" she said as Bella began to push the box back at her and shake her head.

"I thought you'd like something to remember us by; it's only a token, nothing expensive." She giggled as Bella relented and unwrapped it to find a little plastic brooch with the Three Lions logo of the English team embossed on it.

"We all have them. It separates us from the less 'virtuous' women who try to get behind the scenes at matches," Alice explained, with finger flicking to show the quote marks.

"It lets them know we're the good guys – and it gets us into the better bars at grounds." She snorted with laughter as Bella let this information sink in – Alice had given her an 'in' to the inner circle.

The waitress appeared at their table and took their orders. Alice chattered away as they waited.

"Even on Christmas Day the team has to practice. They've all gone to train in the nets before it gets too hot. Then they're going to visit the hospital and hand out gifts at the children's ward. It's a tradition when we're abroad. After that they're free for lunch and then there's a team meeting before the Test starts tomorrow."

The food arrived, along with a couple of statuesque blondes and one sweet and bookish-looking brunette. Alice did the introductions.

"This is Rosalie McCarty - her husband's Emmett; Jessica Stanley - she's Mike Newton's girlfriend; and Angela Cheney, she's married to Ben and is five months pregnant. Don't be surprised if she runs off to upchuck in a plant pot halfway through a conversation. Guys, this is Bella and she's the reporter _Allure _sent for their article about us and our wanton ways."

The other three belly-laughed at Alice's words. Rosalie spoke first. "I think I can safely say we're not wanton," she said, firmly.

They settled down around the table and began to talk.

Meanwhile, across town, Edward was meant to be leading his team bonding exercises but his mind was miles away. Eventually, Emmett threw a towel at him to snap him out of it.

"What's the matter, man?" Emmett boomed. "Still thinkin' with your dick? Was Lolly the Dolly that good? I knew she'd blow your... mind..."

Something clicked into place in Edward's memory of The Blonde. Emmett had been loitering around the bar with him when she'd appeared. He wasn't nearly as wasted as Edward had been, and had watched, laughing his head off, as the girl draped herself over Edward.

Emmett was devoted to Rosalie. She'd saved him from a veritable bear-pit of groupies at a nightclub the night of his first England double century. Deep down, he wanted Edward to be as happy as he was; hence the not-so-subtle attempts at hookups.

Emmett waggled his eyebrows suggestively and Edward scowled at the thought of The Blonde, but softened as he remembered his Mia. Unfortunately, Emmett assumed his half smile was due to The Blonde.

"Worth it, then? I bet she sucked like a Hoover," he stage-whispered with a huge wink. "Aren't you happy I gave her your spare room card?"

"Yeah, you're a real king." Edward's voice dripped with sarcasm. "If I get crotch rot I will make sure I rub my knob on your towels."

As he grabbed his bat and took up position in the nets he tried to focus his mind on his game and pushed his memories of Mia away.

He had been thinking more and more about her Bambi eyes and her brilliant, geeky brain - not to mention her curves, her creamy skin and her jiggling boobs. His fingers itched to text her, but he hadn't had a minute to himself since he'd woken up.

Jazz came in to bowl. Edward whacked the first two balls away, but then Jasper changed tack and bowled them short. The first hit solidly mid wicket, the second bounced soundly off Edward's pads for a clear LBW. Jasper threw his captain a filthy look as his fifth ball was edged off for what would have been an easy catch.

"Your mind's not on the game, man," Jasper was as to the point when it came to Edward's playing as he was with his private life. "It's that girl, isn't it?"

Edward nodded, almost imperceptibly. Jasper threw the ball to Newton and told Emmett to get in to bat, and walked over to where Edward was still standing, lost in his daydreams. He put his arm over his captain's shoulder and walked off to the outfield with him, away from curious ears.

"Tell me what's bugging you, Ed." Jasper was older than his friend by eight months and sometimes he really felt like he was the Dad in their relationship.

Edward unburdened. He explained about how freaked out he was that he had thought about this girl's mind first and body second. That he wanted to know everything about her. How he was a bit freaked out that he couldn't 'read' her like he usually could.

Jasper hid a snort at this, thinking that it wasn't hard to 'read' someone's mind when they were sitting on your face ten minutes after you met them.

Actually, Jasper found it quite sweet that his manwhore of a mate seemed to have finally met his match - someone who knew next to nothing about him, especially about his awesome reputation as a cocksman.

"You are so emotionally stunted, man," Jasper finally said. "Just talk to her, mate. Text her. Take her out. Buy her something. Fucking hell, man it's not hard! Have you never actually gone out on a date with a girl before?"

Edward, sheepish, shook his head.

"Fuck...man... I will never understand how you upper class types ever get wives..."

Jasper shook his head, making his shaggy hair swing from side to side.

Jasper grumbled on, but with a smile on his face. Edward jogged away to perform his captainly duties, working up a sweat as the temperature began creeping up. It was freaky to spend Christmas Day in this kind of heat instead of the freezing fog and snow of home.

His mum had emailed him a picture of their cottage with a 5 foot icicle hanging off the roof and there he was sweating like a pig at 8.30am as it got steadily hotter.

The team called it a day early and hit the showers before being bussed to the Princess Margaret Children's Hospital where they met up with their Aussie counterparts. They signed dozens of plaster casts and cards for the youngsters in the wards - and several more for the doctors and nurses.

There was some good-natured sledging as the teams waited outside the wards. The series was even at one win each and one draw. With two more to go both teams were under incredible pressure to win this match.

Edward's nemesis was Jacob Black; captain and the most recognisable Australian since Skippy the Bush Kangaroo. Black was 6 feet 10 inches of Aborigine muscle, pure power with the bat, and with a brain for tactics worthy of a chess grandmaster.

The irony was that they were actually friends. They met in their teens when they played for the same English minor league team.

Their friendship stayed strong even after Edward was snapped up by Lancashire and Jake by their deadly rivals, Yorkshire. They propped up the same bars, chased the same girls and had shared adventures across the globe, until Jake eloped with Ness, daughter of the chairman of the South African selectors.

While others took sledging personally, these two had made it into an art form based on mutual respect and a deep knowledge of each other's lives. Black called Cullen a man-slag; Cullen liked to remind Black that, pre-Ness, he had jerked off so often his palms needed shaving.

They always shared a pint in the bar afterwards and there was no bad blood at all between them off the field.

It took Jake about 10 seconds to see his friend was not himself. He slapped him between the shoulder blades and looked straight in his eyes. "You okay, Cullo? You look like you're miles away... If I didn't know better I'd think you're soft for some girl-"

He took one look at Edward' reaction to know it was true. A second later he was roaring with laughter.

"Fuck, man, you've got it bad... I do believe Mr. Cocky Cullen is off the market. Women will be sobbing in the streets!"

Edward determined at that moment that he would woo his Mia properly, starting as soon as possible. The moment he was out of the hospital and could power up his phone again he was scrolling down to find her name.

Casual texting was another new concept. Edward was more likely to ask a young lady about whether or not she was wearing underwear in a first text than wonder what she was doing.

It took most of the trip for Edward to finally come up with a suitable text to send. *******Hi ****Mia****, ****Happy ****Christmas**** - ****Vincent***** **He rolled his eyes at himself as he sent it, but within a few seconds there was a reply.

*******Morning ****Vincent****. ****Hope ****you ****slept ****well****. ****Happy ****Christmas ****too*******

His smile was a mile wide. Emmett, sitting opposite him, nudged Jasper and they watched enthralled, unaware that their other halves were doing pretty much the same thing while sipping champagne cocktails in Alice's suite at the hotel.

Rosalie and the other WAGs were all very much taken with Bella Swan. They were usually nervous of reporters in general, but she was so friendly and unassuming that they all fell a little bit in love with her.

Alice had, of course, googled her work and found her to be a sparky, funny writer, who focused on the people she wrote about - not the clothes or myths surrounding them. Her articles were well-received and well-liked.

Alice decided to trust her.

* * *

><p>Bella made it to her room to find her suitcase on her bed, miraculously still in one piece despite its unexpected detour to who-the-hell-knows-where.<p>

She opened it to find a small wrapped box at the very top. Smiling, she realised her dad must have smuggled it in before he dropped her at the airport.

Never one to save the paper, she ripped in to reveal a small black box containing an earring and pendant set with tiny silver daisies.

Her phone chirped with another text from Edward, inviting her to drinks later if she was free. She replied that she'd love to and would let him know when; both thought the other was busy for lunch.

Meanwhile, in the bath in their suite, Alice was massaging her husband's back while he mused out loud about Edward. As Alice's hands slipped lower down her husband's back her resolve became clearer. Bella had to interview Edward.

Jasper leaned gently against his wife, and as her arms snaked around his hips and met at the front, they both forgot what they were talking about.

Edward was in the shower. His mind was on his mystery brunette while one hand was occupied dealing with the hard-on he was sporting at the mere idea of seeing her again.

His hand wasn't gentle on his dick, but in his mind's eye his lips were soft as he wrapped them around her nipple and gently pulled with his teeth, then drew an orgasm out of her using only his tongue.

Down the corridor things were not gentle in Emmett and Rosalie's suite. Buoyed up by the romance in their friends' lives, and in Rose's case, half a bottle of Veuve Clicquot, Emmett had Rosie spreadeagled against the bathroom door while he pounded her until she came for the third time.

Rosie smiled as the waves hit, delighted to be away from the kids for the first time in years.

Bella was in her own state of bliss, lying on her bed, opening Christmas cards and looking back at her first day in Australia.

She still had a buzz from the Mimosa Rosalie insisted she had with breakfast, but it was nothing compared to the feelings that swept over her whenever she thought about 'Vincent' and their text conversation.

As she picked up the file containing all the details about the players, her phone rang. Alice informed her she wanted to drive her to lunch and would be by to collect her in half an hour.

When Alice arrived at her door, Bella was dressed in her own clothes for the first time in days - a short pale blue cotton shift dress and Grecian-style sandals. She'd found time to paint her toenails pearly pink.

Jasper was waiting patiently in the lobby with Ben and a somewhat green Angela, who won the front seat place in the SUV by default, since nobody wanted to be next to her if she did hurl.

Edward had blagged a seat in Emmett and Rosalie's taxi. Since Emmett selfishly held out for his third orgasm, they were late, and by the time they arrived at Jake's place Alice and Jasper were nowhere to be seen.

Edward followed his nose around the rear of the house where he found Jake, one hand on Ness's waist and the other holding tongs.

Various WAGs - both Aussie and Brit - loitered around the pool and he could see several players actually in the water engaged in a viciously competitive game of marco polo.

"Cullo, mate, you made it!" Jake's voice boomed out louder even than Emmett's. Edward winced as heads swivelled in his direction, some clearly predatory. To his delight there was no sign of The Blonde.

He scanned the garden. With skin as pale as his, he tended to avoid direct sunlight - and skanks - so the pool was out of bounds. The patio area by the barbecue was heaving with people so he rejected that, too.

Off to the side was a smaller patio area with a vine-covered pergola providing plenty of shade, where Bella, also afraid of the effect of the sun on her skin, had chosen to take cover. She was tucked away in her corner, a cold glass of lemonade in her hand and her phone and notebook on the table.

She had pulled out her players' file and was flicking through the mug-shots helpfully photoshopped on to each one.

Bella was daydreaming about her night with 'Vincent' again when a tall shadow blocked out her light. She pushed her sunglasses over her head and glanced up.

Her smile almost eclipsed the sunshine for brightness as she realised whose shadow it was - and that those eyes matched that of the team photo in front of her. Edward gasped and stumbled in his haste to get closer.

Both were at a loss for words. It was Edward who broke the silence.

"Um... hi..." He just resisted the temptation to wave.

"What are you doing here?" He spotted the little England Lions brooch. "Who gave you that?"

Bella's blush was making her ears hurt. She unconsciously brought her hand up and fiddled with the brooch. It was just at the beginning of the swell of her breast and the thought of her hand there had an immediate physical effect on Edward.

He was sitting beside her in a flash, staring at a picture of himself. "Why the crib sheets, Mia?" His eyes narrowed. "Who are you, really?"

Bella cleared her throat and inhaled a lungful of his wonderful woodsmoke and wintergreen scent, which knocked her senses off kilter for a second.

"Um.. Alice gave me the brooch," she confessed.

"I am here to interview her and some of the other team wives for a magazine," she said, adding in a tiny voice, "I'm a reporter..."

Edward had spent many years avoiding reporters of all shapes and sizes and the thought that one of 'them' knew so much about him was beginning to freak him the fuck out.

"I don't know what else to say," Bella was panicking and close to tears. "I didn't know who you were yesterday... I mean I do now... I-I can go, if you want..."

Edward acted without thinking and grabbed her arm, somehow stopping himself from bruising her. "Stay. For pete's sake, don't go. I want you- I want you to stay. Even if you are a reporter... "

She smiled again an stuck her hand out. "Well, we'd better introduce ourselves properly. I'm Bella, pleasure to meet you."

He took her hand, slowly and reverently bringing it to his lips. "Edward, at your service..."

Her surprise at his old-fashioned gesture was tempered by a huge wave of desire brought on by the sight of his green eyes, framed by lashes Mary Quant would kill for. Her train of thought definitely hit the buffers when it came to him.

He shifted closer to her on the bench so their thighs were touching, side by side and somehow couldn't bring himself to let go of her hand. Moments, seconds, minutes passed as all he did was gently rub his thumb along her knuckles.

Slightly away, out of their line of sight, Alice smiled to herself and tiptoed up to give her husband a kiss.

"Whether or not what we experienced was an According to Hoyle miracle is insignificant. What is significant is that I felt the touch of God. God got involved," she said, slyly. He hummed against her mouth. He did like it so very much when she quoted _Pulp __Fiction_.

"Is he bowled over?" she asked. Jasper chuckled. "Oh yes my dear, definitely," he mumbled into her hair, his hands roaming on the exposed skin around her bikini. "Definitely."

**A/N: to be continued...? Hopefully! follow me, afmtoo, on twitter or on fanfiction(dot)net to find out when.**

**Thanks to EMCxo for betaing, jaimearkin for making a banner and JAustenlover for pre-reading. _Pulp__Fiction_ quotes and characters are Quentin Tarentino's; _Twilight_'s characters are Stephenie Meyer's, not mine. **

**Please feel free to let me know what you think; I can provide cricket translation if you need it!**

**AFMxx**


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